


Birdcages

by madempress



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: 50000 years of slow burn, Immortality, Kagome the Eternal Virgin, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Time Loop, Time Travel, Warnings May Change, really slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22342834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madempress/pseuds/madempress
Summary: The mysteries of time, which gave way for Kagome to travel to and from the Feudal Era, are not limited to the Well, nor the quest to complete the Shikon no Tama.  Kagome has come to understand that she is trapped: trapped in youth, trapped in a perpetual quest, and caught between roles even as her friends move on.  But the cage around Kagome is much more than she realized, and her trials to bring peace to the future are not over.
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/Sesshoumaru, Inu no Taishou/Izayoi, Inu no Taishou/Sesshoumaru's Mother, InuYasha/Kikyou (InuYasha), Miroku/Sango (InuYasha)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 101





	1. Muromachi

Muromachi

The reflection wavered in the soft breeze as the water rippled, moved by the wind. Still, the reflection did not change. Not enough to hide the truth. 

Kagome did not often think about her appearance, much less her age. She had spent years of her life in the past, traveling with a monk in his 30s, a demon slayer in her twenties, and a fox kit who was older than all of them in numerical years. Then there was the hanyou, older even still, so boyish and immature that at times, Shippo seemed his match. The passage of time was not something Kagome grasped.

And yet, having begun her journey at fifteen, Kagome was now nearly one and twenty. She ate the diet of a traveler, walked miles every day, and contained energy within herself that could not be measured by modern science. 

Her body had matured, but not to the extent her old schoolmates had. Kagome did not often visit the modern era; away at college, her mother would tell the rare inquiry. The last time she had seen anyone from high school, Eri had been horrified at how little Kagome had grown. 

Kagome had stared at herself long and hard in the mirror that night, refrains of how Eri had been certain that her years of illness had permanently stunted her development echoing in her ears. Where once boys had thought Kagome attractive, men now failed to notice her.

Her face was young. It was the face of developing womanhood, not womanhood itself. Kikyo’s elegance seemed perpetually promised but forever unachieved. Kagome’s breasts were impetuously pert, her muscles hidden still by the soft fat of youth, her legs long and coltish.

Kagome banished the reflection with her palm, scooping up water to throw on her skin. She was only twenty. There was still time for change to come upon her, she reminded herself.

The burning in her throat would not abate, but Kagome hid her grimace as she downed the sake. Her throat muscles sagged and cried at the spicy drink, and for a moment, she feared she would gag. It was a relief when at last, she swallowed painfully. 

No one noticed the struggle. The uproarious cheers had risen and fallen in waves of boisterous energy all night. Her solemn expression had remained disguised by the great flickers of the bonfires, the haze of alcohol, and the gaiety of her companions.

Naraku was dead. Many thought the Jewel destroyed.

Kagome massaged her throat gently. She had swallowed the hateful thing, forcing it down her esophagus and feeling its poisonous burn for two days before, at last, her body had settled. She would spend the rest of her life containing its energy.

Her wish had surely been pure. All she could think of, watching the carrion birds collect around the great hoard of corpses, smelling the blood and rot thick on the air, was that the best thing for everyone was for the jewel to cease its existence. No other wish would ensure such horrors never visited them again.

But the jewel had not vanished, and Kagome had swallowed it. Then the jewel had, she supposed, disappeared. Into her veins, where its power corroded her body and ate at her energy as she struggled to hide the yawning abyss away.

Beside her, Miroku and Sango shared a chaste kiss.

Pain crawled along Kagome’s arms. 

Kikyo, piece of Kagome’s soul and all, sat next to Inuyasha and gave a gentle smile. The golem was not capable of great emotion, but even she felt joy at Naraku’s demise. The long road was over, and her gaze softened enough to keep Inuyasha close.

Kagome had only the pain of the burden Kikyo for which had died to keep her company. 

She stamped down the bitterness and instead hugged the kitsune on her lap even closer. Shippo giggled, and Kagome welled with warmth strong enough to bat away the lingering reminder of her parasitic secret. 

“Shippo,” she whispered. “Shippo, make a wish.”

“I don’t need to wish for anything, mama,” Shippo replied happily, pecking her cheek with his soft nose. “We have everything now!”

They did not, but Kagome smiled proudly at him all the same, holding him close. 

She would crawl into her sleeping bag with him and stare at the open sky late into the night. She would help Kaede clean her hut, and then she would leave with Sango and Miroku for the Taijya village. Sango was certain Kohaku would go there if he had survived the chaos of Naraku’s defeat.

It was an unspoken expectation that Kagome would leave soon – this was as much a farewell feast for her as a celebration of a long journey complete. Sango perhaps expected Inuyasha to declare a suit, for even he could not make a family with a woman of clay. Inuyasha probably thought, regardless of his intentions – not that he had any, living in the moment as he did – that she would continue back and forth, and make a home for herself as Kaede’s apprentice. He had mentioned it more than once, recently.

Kagome would not mind such an existence, but she had chosen a side of the well. She had said her goodbyes to her family in the event the well closed. She needed to beat out her throbbing heart and walk off the scalding bite of the Shikon’s cruel power. She would help Sango on this last quest and help them establish a new taijya school. Miroku intended to build a shrine that would house the Goshinkobu and well on its grounds, and Sango would use its protections to rebuild her family’s legacy.

It would be good to rest. In the morning, Kagome promised herself. In the morning, she would make clear her intentions.

Light filtered through the great boughs of the Goshinkobu, a strain of early morning sunlight that filled the air with dancing beams. The taiyoukai breathed deep the scents of his environment. He ignored the tiresome stench of the human village and instead concentrated on his prey.

The miko who traveled with his half-brother was now the Shikon no Miko. She was an honorable soul, and strong for all her mortal flesh rendered her vulnerable. Sesshomaru believed her to be stronger than his hanyou brother, for he had felt more and more the power licking the surface of her skin. She had shown an aptitude for motherhood, and it was at the intersection of her desire and capability to protect that drew Sesshomaru to seek her out that morning.

The soft song of his ward warbled into uncertainty as the Goshinkobu drew into view. 

The wail which Sesshomaru had been ignoring was ongoing. He had sensed no threat, and the kit was young and prone to excess.

But the kitsune was in great distress, sitting on an empty bedroll that the Shikon no Miko had slept on many a time in Sesshomaru’s presence. 

“Kit,” Sesshomaru addressed the fox kit, motioning for Rin to hang back. The clearing was saturated with the scent of the miko, from the well to the reaching branches of Goshinkobu. But she was gone, and Sesshomaru did not sense that she had left the clearing. Rather, her trail vanished abruptly. It was as though she’d been everywhere in the clearing at once, and then suddenly not there at all.

The wailing kit turned to Sesshomaru and gave a great sob of relief. “S-Sesshomaru-sama! Sess-homa-ru-sama! Mama is gone!” He hurtled himself at Sesshomaru, and Sesshomaru caught the bundle of fur, tightening the edges of his mouth. The downside of having traveled with his hanyou brother’s makeshift pack for so many moons while hunting the vile abomination: the kit had come to see Sesshomaru as alpha, though Sesshomaru had made no formal claims. 

Yet another reason the miko had been the only suitable choice, however.

“Kit, calm yourself.”

“Shippo!” Rin-chan smiled brilliantly at her friend from behind Sesshomaru, where she waited impatiently next to Ah-Un. “Shippo, tell Sesshomaru-sama what happened, and he can help!”

The kit sniffled. “I don’t know! We fell asleep beneath the Goshinkobu after the feast. I… I woke, and she was gone! I was right on top of her and t-then she was just g-gone!” He began to cry again with great hiccups, and Sesshomaru set the kit down next to Rin. She immediately hovered over the ball of fur and stroked his head.

Little wonder the kit had chosen Sesshomaru as an alpha, with how close Rin and he had come to be, and how much the Shikon no Miko had doted on them both.

He traversed the clearing carefully, but there were no further clues. No misplaced foilage beyond the trail to the village. No scents beyond the birds and the odd squirrel.

“Where are your companions, kit?”

“I don’t know,” Shippo hiccuped. His tone grew bitter. “All sleeping, I bet.”

No doubt. The human village was normally emitting quite a bit of noise by now, but Sesshomaru heard nothing from down the hill. He had been invited to the celebration by the Shikon no Miko, though judging from the sparkle in her eye, she had offered the invitation in humor, not expecting him to accept.

Sesshomaru circled the clearing again. The Shikon no Miko’s power had surged to leave such a scent imprint over such a wide space. Her power had grown from that final battle. But she was not there. Either a truly crafty enemy had made off with her…

“You say the Shikon no Miko was ‘just gone,’” Sesshomaru quoted the fox kit. “Specify.”

The fox kit stared at him with wide eyes. Rin’s petting had properly soothed him out of his wailing.

“I… I woke up b-because her power…” the kit made a big ‘boom’ motion with his hands, emerald eyes yet filled with tears. “I thought we were being attacked, but then – then she was – I was lying on top of her!” He exclaimed. “And then I dropped to the ground!”

Rin gasped. “So suddenly!”

Shippo nodded emphatically.

Sesshomaru frowned. The kit was describing the miko disappearing into thin air. This disappearance was not through the well, which Sesshomaru understood to have been a risk. It wasn’t kidnapping or running away.

She had vanished. Instantaneously.

“Jaken.”

“Hai, Sesshomaru-sama?”

“Bring Rin and the kit.”

“Hai! Sesshomaru-sama!”

Sesshomaru did not wait to see the imp herd the children onto Ah-Un. He sped towards the village, suppressing his youkai and dampening his scent, circling until he was upwind.

The undead miko was already awake, stringing a bow outside her sister’s residence. She did not sense him.

Sesshomaru considered the miko cautiously. There did not seem to be any change: her scent remained muted by clay. 

She still did not possess a whole soul.

The Shikon no Miko was somewhere yet to be found.


	2. Kaibyakuirai

She knew when she awoke that she was alone. It was not merely her kit missing that led the tears to her eyes, but the stinging, gaping, abyss of her surroundings. The trees were all slender, spread far apart, barely saplings, and none of them familiar to her. They sprawled out before her like a field of sticks. The grass was thin and the ground unsettled, as though it had not decided whether to firm enough for the grass or remain malleable for itself. The light of the sun was somehow thinner.

There was no well, no raised earth of even a hillside; the land was flat and empty. So incredibly, achingly empty, that she could hardly grasp at how empty it felt. There were no birds in the air, no humans or huts; there were not even insects in the grass. 

Kagome opened her mouth and screamed.

She screamed until her throat was raw, and her eyes swelled, and yet no one came to her side. No Shippo, no Inuyasha, no Sango or Miroku or Kaede or even her mother, as though her mother might suddenly appear in this singular distress to sooth Kagome the way only a mother could. 

The hollowness of her surroundings bored into her flesh and ate at her mind.

Day turned to night, and Kagome sat, hunger digging into her stomach. Her mouth was open, though it had ceased to make noise. Thirst began to lap at her throat and skin, and yet the hollowness dulled and numbed.

Kagome could not breathe.

She did not understand.

 _What is this?_ She begged the sky. _Where am I?_

The Shikon licked at her insides as always, but there was nothing else. Nothing but the soft emptiness of the unknowing world around her.


	3. Kaibyakuirai, ni-banme

Kagome found it hurt to exist in the world she found herself in. It had never occurred to her, what the world felt like as time went on. The Sengoku jidai had felt different from her modern era; of course it had. There was no pollution, only the noise of nature and occasionally humans. There had been few machines, and none had spewed steam or oil or other pollutants. It was only natural that the world itself would have felt lighter, less bogged down.

That difference had perhaps masked something else; something that Kagome had even caught glimpses of, whenever she placed her hand on the Goshinboku. The tree aged 500 years whenever she returned to the modern era, and with it came a presence, lost in all the other signals but for when she put her hand on it for brief moments. In the past, it always felt different. It had never occurred to Kagome that what had been different might have been less.

Everything was less here. Everything was so much less that it might not have been there at all. Kagome’s eyes saw the world stretch before her. They saw the trees and the grass and, after many, many days of walking, struggling bundles of plants that were neither. She could touch these things, and the bark felt like bark and the grass like grass. But Kagome could not sense their existence. That awareness, something that perhaps lingered in all living things’ minds from the minute they were conceived, was only possible to notice, maybe, if you knew it and then suddenly, like Kagome, there was nothing to sense at all.

Survival was strangely easy. There were no youkai hunting in the thin grass and no wolves howling in the night.

There were no berries, so Kagome ate the grass. She forced it into her mouth in thick handfuls and chewed laboriously, swallowing and gagging and choking.

She found many more streams than she had ever found before, and her stomach never lost the pang of hunger, but never did she tire, either.

It was a prison, she decided. Some enemy they did not yet know of, or some new evil, or even some lingering plot of Naraku’s. She had been captured, and this was a dream-prison or a pocket dimension, or some other sort of lie. She just had to hope that her friends were looking for her and keep trying herself to find a way out.

Time passed differently in that isolation. Kagome walked and did not tire. At first, she walked in hopes of finding something. 

Anything.

Another living soul. An insect.

Then she walked because the world, in its vapidness, was too empty to stand. There were fewer hills and mountains, only flat plains and gentle bumps, and walking seemed the only means to escape the hollowness settling into her self.

She walked and walked, and time passed. Kagome was not sure what strange problem she had gotten herself into, but this new prison was real in enough ways. It remained abstract in many, but time did pass. The sun rose, and the moon rose. The sun set, and the moon set. Kagome could even be sure that seasons were changing: it grew warmer, warmer until she was sweating in her steadily degrading clothes. Then it began to chill, and the laughable leave bunches on the scraggly trees turned gold and red and brown and fell to the ground. 

Kagome found the ocean and stared at the waves, feeling her certainty that this was some finite reality fade ever so slightly. It was not just the waves, but rather that they did not break on sand, but on rock and mud. There was no sand.

_Not yet_. Kagome thought and buried the traitorous thought beneath willfulness.

She built herself a lean-to where the flat stone beach met the flat fielded forest, breaking branches and apologizing, feeling foolish, to the young, young trees. She gathered leaves and smashed them together in the mud until she was surrounded by a sticky mess and managed to form a sort of roof.

There was nothing to do but build and forage and search.

Gathering grass to eat was easier than finding berries. Kagome had stood in the lapping surf, toes freezing in the water but never turning blue, and not a single fish or crab had appeared.

One morning, the sky began to shatter into darkness. Thunder cracked and snaped with great throaty gusts. The air turned thick with ash and sulfur, and Kagome scrambled to run. She had taken to pacing the coastline, her limbs never tiring, and now stamina led her for kilometers until, at last, she coughed away the last of the ash and watched through the ash-choked haze as the beach that had been her home grew in size. 

It was foolish, for even as she thought it, her heart plummeted to her feet. A hill, an honest hill, a mound, was growing. The land was no longer flat. It felt as though that place she had chosen to build her hut had been blessed. But no prison would use this scientific realism.

No, no prison would contain the seasons that followed. Kagome knew that it was volcanoes; it was the growth of new land. The young trees burned, and thousands of the pitiful sticks died, but she could feel the youthful livelihood, waiting patiently for the fire to pass. For the first time, she could feel the world around her, small and minute though it was.

The world was growing, and Kagome was no longer alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Counting in Japanese is a bit tricky at the level of just-below-anime-watcher, and took me a couple of hours down a rabbit hole I did not mean to take. This is because Japanese uses 'counters,' i.e. a thing to indicate that you're counting. But the counter changes with what you're counting, and there are a zillion counters. 'Parts of a section of a book' is not spelled out explicitly anywhere. I used a tutorial site: guidetojapanese-dot-org; a translation site: Tangorin; and google translate to handle the romaji. If you know that I absolutely did it wrong, I accept corrections enthusiastically. Also, fun fact: Grammarly (my answer to a beta) has a Grammarly "Tone Detector" (beta) tool. The last chapter was highly "dissatisfied" and this one is "sad." This note is apparently also "sad." D:


	4. Kaibyakuirai, san-banme

Patting down the structure, Kagome grimly assessed her options. In the distance, smoke and ash roiled angrily through the air. 

The activity was several kilometers away, and Kagome had figured out the sources several seasons past. It was now routine to interrupt seasons of stillness with seasons of walking. The land was changing, but not as frequently as it had in her first few years. Kagome had originally taken to scratching days in the rocks; then, as time moved on, she counted seasons. She did not bother counting anymore. Her body was still exactly as it had been, if a bit leaner, and wherever she was, whatever she was doing there, it seemed she was there to stay.

Unfortunately, just because she did not age or starve to death didn’t mean Kagome couldn’t get cold, and lately, freezing to death had seemed possible. The past winters had been mild – humid at times, even. Her most recent lean-to was, instead of failing to hold up to the forces of nature, simply failing to keep Kagome warm enough. She could make the walls thicker, maybe, or insulate them with more filling.

Time, it seemed, made an architect out of anyone. Kagome sighed, bit her lip, and turned West towards the forest. She passed a few shrubs, actual shrubs that were acting like shrubs, and reached the first tree. The trees were hardier. They were louder. Kagome was getting better at distinguishing them from the volcanos, which boomed and growled and drowned out other voices.

Grabbing a branch, gritting her teeth against the sting of broken callouses, Kagome pulled down. The branch cracked after some protest, and she began tugging it back and forth. Once it had been reduced to the thick green fibers of the core, she untied the seaweed that acted as rope around her waist and pulled out of the tangle a wide, flat stone.

It had taken months to find the rocks necessary to make tools. There were not a lot of rocks that were not smooth or too large, and when Kagome did get her hands on one, they wore down fast. Her last find of rocks – old enough was a term she had begun to use, though she was no geologist – had been swallowed in a lava flow.

The stone made short work of the tree branch, and the final fibers broke with thick pops. Kagome struggled with the unwieldy branch for a moment, throwing it to the side, and set down her stone. She unwound the leaf and fiber binding on her arm and checked the scratch it had covered. It still oozed a bit of blood when she prodded the scratch.

Setting one foot against the trunk, Kagome grabbed the next highest branch. She wasn’t worried about it holding her weight; even young branches tended to shrug to the diminutive burden she presented. She clambered up to the place where she had taken the branch. One arm awkwardly holding the next branch overhead and knees tightly clamped to the trunk, Kagome kissed the tree’s wound and pressed her scratch to it, rubbing slightly. 

“Thank you,” Kagome told the tree.

She drew her arm back, checking that there was blood in the broken wood and sap itching at her scratch.

Satisfied, Kagome let go of the branch above and simultaneously pushed away from the tree. As she had a thousand times before, she landed on her feet with a gentle bounce. She turned to the next tree and looked it over for the next candidate.

Hours had passed by the time Kagome finished hauling the branches back to her build site. The sun was lower in the sky by a significant amount, and her sweat had started to cool against her skin. Kagome didn’t often bother with a fire. Rubbing the deepened scratch on her arm ruefully, Kagome thought about trying for it, tonight. Fire, in a world where most wood was living, and flint was missing, was a luxury that had to –

Kagome leaped up as the cry repeated. It was not tree-voice or volcano-voice or sea-foam or seaweed. The cry was faint. Heart hammering, Kagome churned her feet in the grass. The cry repeated, stronger now. Tripping and catching herself, Kagome caught her hands next tree trunk as she stopped short of entering the babbling stream she had chosen as her freshwater source. 

The light was growing dim, but Kagome could still see enough to distinguish the forming stream bed. In a few years, it would give Kagome valuable rocks if she was still around. She planned on traveling up its narrow path when her latest home was fashioned, or sooner if her last few rocks broke. At the roots of streams, there were often rocks, but there were also volcanos and earthquakes and little grass, and the roots could be several days’ travel away.

Kagome disliked leaving a running distance of the ocean, where seaweed remained the best resource. Kagome never stopped looking for signs of fish, either. 

The cry repeated, and Kagome cautiously tried to seek out a source with her eyes. It was not a cry, at this distance, but a steady whine, not quite at a pitch meant for the human ear.

A faint buzzing of awareness niggled at her. Kagome’s heart leaped up into her throat, but she forced herself to put one foot into the running water. The buzzing grew louder, as did her sense of the whine.

Kagome slowly knelt, shivering at the chill of the water against her skin. The stream, thin and precarious, had an infirm bed. Mud rose as Kagome’s shins sank, and the reedy noise faltered. Kagome could see it now, not a shape but its faint, faint luminescence. The niggling awareness was stronger now, but Kagome was no longer afraid.

She cupped her hands into the water and waited, willing patience and kindness into her limbs.

Architecture had come after days of endless uselessness had driven Kagome to meditate.

Now there was a forward drive to the whine.

Kagome’s breath caught in her throat, and she carefully raised her cupped hands, full of mud and water, to her face.

One pale yellow eye, barely big enough to be the head of a pin, stared back.

In her hands, Kagome gazed at the small, tiny flare of life. The whine was abating into a simple hum, but the youkai was indisputably a youkai. It resembled a larva or tadpole with size limiting any recognizable features. 

The water was beginning to drain from her hands. The youkai spasmed.

Kagome hesitated. She wasn’t sure where the youkai had come from, but there were no others like it around her. It was a noisy thing, and discomfort was now louder than the forward drive or whine of before. 

Gentle, Kagome lowered her hands until the youkai was underwater. Immediately, its spasms carried it into the lively current, and quickly the vivid sense of its presence vanished.

Kagome stayed in the mud. She kept her mind out of the dark caverns of old school history books, forcefully ignoring the pressing memories of evolution and basic geology. It was not the first time, nor would it be the last, but it was stupid and pointless and impossible in any case.

The youkai had probably gotten stuck in a high spot of the stream bed. In the simple emotions it was capable of: forward; backward; discomfort; it had made enough noise to catch her attention. It was gone now, carried off by a better current. Kagome would have to hope that another appeared, maybe one that could handle air, and soon.


	5. Kyūsekki

Swatting at yet another insect, Kagome swore ferociously. She moved closer to the fire, picking up another soaked log to set into the flames. The fire itself was merrily burning, minding the mottled fish Kagome had speared in the surf. The air was uncomfortably humid, and although the smoke kept the insects away, it only served to trap Kagome and her sweat under a blanket of itchy heat.

Kagome had been stung, bitten, and whipped by insects plenty. She had born welts across the length of her torso and had failed to die, but the sting alone had kept insects – any insect – enemy Number One. 

She had found that the yellow-leafed shrubs in her forest had roots that, when smashed, stank to high heaven. If smeared on enough surfaces, the paste kept the insects away. The root paste lost its bite quickly, though, even if mixed with saltwater. Kagome had needed the paste so much that she was running out of roots to dig up.

It had been warm and humid, and the air had taken a bellowing feel to its currents for many seasons, and the cold months had shrunk until the insects never went away. Kagome knew a lot of suns had passed, but it was always either warm or slightly less warm. Seasons had seemingly vanished, even as the moon came and went.

In the distance, something roared.

Her companion raised his head, alert, but at last, the mammalian youkai huffed and decided the threat was too far off to care. He rolled, scratching his thick hide on the boulder Kagome used as a table. Kagome lifted the corner of her mouth at his excessive laze. She had given him the illustrious name ‘Lizard,’ even though the quadruped was definitively anything but reptilian. Lizard was the last of his litter and the only one that had chosen to stay.

Kagome usually had at least one stay. She couldn’t always remember their names, and had raised at least four “Lizards,” only one of which had been an actual reptile. It was their eyes. Youkai eyes almost always had that analytical gleam to them, regardless of what animal they resembled. 

A baying call rose to the East, and now Lizard did roll to his feet, interested. Kagome followed him with her eyes, one hand rotating the spit. The armored fish had to cook evenly for several hours before the scale plates could be peeled away, and Kagome was more interested in keeping the long process going than she was some roaming animal.

Lizard snuffled along the fence of bone, wood, and stone, tied together with vine and woven fibers. He pawed slightly at the section he knew made up the gate, and Kagome clucked her tongue. “Lizard,” she cleared her throat.

Lizard crooned at her and flexed his narrow crest up and down. Kagome narrowed her eyes at him and sent a ripple of reiki out to snap at his footpads. Predictably, the crest flattened, and Lizard padded back to her side sulkily. There was only one boss between the two of them, and it was Kagome. 

Letting loose a tremendous sigh, Lizard flopped to the ground. Kagome turned back to her armored fish, prodding it a little moodily. The baying cry sounded again, and Lizard looked up at her hopefully.

“After dinner,” she told him firmly. 

If the animal or spirit were still making noise after dinner, she’d go out and find it. 

Lizard could probably still hear whatever it was, even if Kagome couldn’t. He was restless and paced the fenceline, alternating between sitting, standing, and stomping one paw at Kagome with greatly restrained whines.

Time was a giver of many things beyond architectural skill, such as the patience of a saint. Kagome ignored her agitated companion and concentrated on turning the fish. It wasn’t the largest fish she had ever speared, but it had been a struggle to pull it out of the water onto the beach far enough that between Lizard and she, they had been able to keep it out of the water until it suffocated. 

When the fish cooked enough to pull apart, she would tear off the armored plates and cut the flesh underneath into strips. The strips would have to be cooked then again for easy eating and preservation. The guts and bones, Kagome would diligently carry back to the surf in the morning. She would use the saltwater to clean the bits that she could use and throw whatever Lizard didn’t want back into the ocean.

The scale plates began to blister slightly and pull up. Kagome carefully prodded the corpse in a few different places, and satisfied, hefted the spit off its resting stakes. The weight caused her to stumble, but Kagome was used to heavy things and got it placed upright in the harness jig. 

The harness she had crafted eons ago to help deal with the myriad of corpses she dealt with that were larger than her in all directions. Kagome had perfected its design with each new material she had to work with, but what it needed was some proper rope. Time had not yet seen to make Kagome an expert on rope-making, so the fraying fiber cords tended to last only one or two uses.

Kagome pulled the cords down over their levying branch. She raised the harness until the tail of the fish was off the ground. She tied them off and looked the setup over with a critical eye.

“Okay.” 

Lizard bounced up and rushed to her side eagerly. Kagome rolled her eyes, gently bumping him out of the way with her hip. Against the wall of her lean-to, her latest bow was still strung. Kagome checked it over quickly for any overt faults. Everything still seemed okay after a day of disuse. Kagome had found that, especially in the recent humidity, it was better to unstring the bow if it wasn’t going to get used for a few days.

Lizard huffed at her and stamped on his feet in a dance of impatience. Like all of his predecessors and siblings, Lizard knew to wait for an invitation to go into Kagome’s space. Lizard also knew that Kagome was going in so that they could leave the safety of her bone-fence. Kagome grabbed a jar of yellow paste and smeared the back of her neck and her ankles. She donned her rain-slick, grabbed her quiver and one of her slings, and slid back out the doorway.

Lizard waited impatiently for her at the gate. He was well trained, tamping down his impatience to wait for her to exit. He stayed at her heel once the gate closed behind them. 

Whistling softly, Kagome permitted him to take the lead.

Youkai had proved easier to train than mortal animals, and Lizard was no exception. Kagome could use her reiki to communicate authority and intent to youkai when vocal commands were dangerous to give or unnecessary. Habit and consistency, which Kagome had plenty of experience displaying, did the rest. She wasn’t sure if the focal purpose of youkai gave them their spark of intelligence, but they were always far ahead of their mortal counterparts.

The baying cry had grown and faded as Kagome had cooked the fish. As they set out, she couldn’t hear it, but Lizard led her stealthily through the trees and bushes, his thick tail swaying behind him. It never got far enough ahead of her that Kagome couldn’t have grabbed out and held it. They had made it over the next hill when Kagome heard the cry, and this time she thought she recognized the sound.

It was hard to remember, sometimes, but Kagome did remember.

She quickened her pace, and Lizard dutifully moved faster to stay ahead of her. The forest grew thicker as it drew up against foothills. Kagome kept her eye on the moon through the high tree cover. Ōmagatoki had passed while she cooked the fish, safe within the bone-fence, but full-night could be just as deadly and lasted far longer.

Lizard lowered to his belly in front of her and stilled, indicating that they were nearing their quarry. The baying had stopped in the valley from which they had ascended. The brush was thick and full, so Kagome lowered onto her belly, grimacing as her rain-slick scratched at her back and stomach, riding up her neck. Either whatever it was had died or was too pained to cry. 

Kagome wriggled forward, Lizard letting her pass before following.

Two bodies lay in her sights. One was some amphibian ogre, one bulbous yellow eye glaring out of a skull socket. Ogres had been crawling about more and more as the humidity rose. Kagome had begun to suspect it had to do with the insects. The other corpse was a wolf.

Lizard whined and nudged her.

Kagome blinked. She had started to cry, she realized.

It wasn’t a wolf the way she remembered wolves. She hesitantly stepped forward. The massive chest was too broad, raising and falling laboriously. Blood oozed with every breath. The legs were long and like Lizard, were heavy with tough hide, rather than the thick fur Kagome would have lost her fingers in. The snout was too long and much thicker. 

The wolf had lost much of its middle during the fight. Entrails, sinew, and chunks of flesh were strewn over the clearing. Kagome let out her breath and flattened her reiki, warming the air with the calm she summoned. Lizard stepped ahead of her and gave a grumbling vocalization.

There was no response, and Kagome knew there would never be one. She sighed and looked around the area. There were a great many thick tree trunks, and the roots were all thick and tangled ahead as the ground turned rough and rocky. The air was mostly still, and she kept her reiki expanded. She would not be able to heal the wolf, but its last moments would be at peace and free of pain.

Lizard whined heartily, nudging at the back of her legs.

Kagome scowled at him, stumbling a step, and gave the ogre a once-over. It had black, oily flesh, and catfish whiskers. The holes in its skull and the way the eye was nearly three inches out of the socket suggested the wolf had managed a solid bite. If she wanted to, she could make use of the long nails: four on each hand. Ogre nails were better than stone for most things and could be sharpened into knives. Purifying them was a long, laborious process, though. Kagome often felt filthy using them even after she had.

Lizard whined louder.

“Shzzt!” Kagome hissed to him. 

She looked up to the moon. It was still rising, but she wanted to be back in the bone-fence before it passed its apex. She would come back in a week. If the ogre had been picked clean, she would take its bones and nails. If it hadn’t, she would know from the stench and stay away. Ogre corpses were poison wells, and all manner of nasty things tended to crawl out of them.

If anything, it was a shame it had died as close to her camp as it had.

Lizard butted her hand and clamped his mouth around it.

Kagome, starting, blinked down at him. He was careful not to use his teeth, but even so, Lizard had not grabbed at her with his mouth since he was a baby. He whined around her hand and tugged, ever-so-gently.

The skin of her hand broke, and he let go, whining softly again.

Kagome held the small wound shut but followed Lizard as he slowly moved forward. He looked back at her every step or so, watchful yellow eyes glowing in the dark. He finally reached the base of a tree. Long, deep scratches, matching the width of the four-fingered ogre, had ripped up the stone and dirt and roots, and drag marks led away from the under roots into the mess of the small area in which the fight had been contained.

Kagome had seen plenty of similar scenes. The ogre had probably come across the makeshift den and set to pilfer it when the wolf had returned, or the ogre had fought the wolf, thought the wolf defeated, and set to pilfer the nest only to be dragged away by its head. The wolf would have bitten down while dragging, the ogre had managed a hefty swipe, and the wolf would have disengaged. 

Too late for either of them, over in a flash. She had probably been listening to the wolf’s death-cries for the past several hours.

Kagome tentatively approached the den. She couldn’t hear movement, and the moonlight could not reach under the roots. Kagome lowered herself to her belly again. Lizard lay down at her ankles, facing the ogre and dying wolf, his nose raised. His was not a great nose, but his ears would catch any threats and give Kagome time to hide. Grimacing, Kagome reached her hand into the darkness of the dirt. 

Nothing.

She reached further into the darkness, anxiousness sending her reiki skittering and pulse jumping as her hand found fur.

_Fur_.

Kagome calmed herself and her reiki and patted the fur. It was trembling, and whatever lay beneath it was the size of her palm, too small to nuzzle or move. Kagome felt it out and then around the lump, finding four more, each with fur and tiny ears. Kagome shifted, taking her hand away. She shuffled herself, and her rain-slick until her sling was in front of her. She felt around the lumps and dug her hand gently under one.

She drew the pup out of the den and sucked in a breath. It was tiny, especially given the size of the she-wolf behind them. It had fur, actual fur, soft, and still coming in some spots. Its eyes were tightly, and it moved with difficulty in her grasp. Kagome gently tucked it into the sling. As soon as her hand lost contact, it began to mew.

It began to mew, and so did its brothers and sisters still under the tree roots. Kagome quickly reached for the next one. Nothing brought out predators like corpses and vulnerable young.

Lizard remained steadfast during the extraction, which was a comfort. He had been trained to warn Kagome when to hide, not to growl or defend her. Kagome trusted him with his task.

Extraction finished, a bundle of mewling pups lay crying at the edge of the tree-den. With some difficulty, Kagome pulled herself away from the den after feeling out the corners. She hauled herself to her feet and carefully pulled up the pups. They were weightless by themselves, but all five of them in her sling were heavy. The sling was made of hide and would hold. Still, Kagome tucked it under her slick and secured it by pulling her bow over her shoulder. The string slid into her back uncomfortably, the wood making a brace to hold the pups against her chest.

Kagome nudged Lizard to his feet to let him know she was done and patted his head as he stood. She padded over to the she-wolf and hesitated. Shoving the fear away, Kagome put her palm against the she-wolf’s skull. Reiki flooded her palm with heat, and Kagome transferred the blessing to the dying youkai. 

Then she fled the clearing, eager to be safe behind her bone-fence.


	6. Tokitotomoni

“So, my son, you seek me out again. Twice in one century. Have you come to miss your mother’s wisdom, perhaps?” Inu Kimi gazed at her son over her teacup. Sesshomaru’s coming had been a surprise; there had been no whispers of disorder or mysterious circumstance that would bring him before her. Inu Kimi loathed a hole in her sources.

Her son gave her a minute narrowing of his gold eyes. They were her eyes, much as Sesshomaru had inherited her finer features. It was a small comfort, but the trials of the spider hanyou seemed, at last, to have incited Sesshomaru to grow. He was coming to resemble more Toga’s broadness than when she had sent him to the Meido.

“I have come to seek out the wisdom of the scholars,” Sesshomaru at last replied, tone bland.

“Oh?” The first palace of the inu, the House of the Sky had built their seat of power at the border of realms. The House of the Fang, uninterested in palace-building, had built their libraries and catacombs into the great palace. Inu Kimi’s sire had held the seat Inu Kimi herself did, and Inu Kimi’s mother had come from the House of the Fang. The joined palaces had made unions between the House of the Fang and the House of the Sky common. “For what question would you seek such answers? Indulge your mother, Sesshomaru, she grows weary with boredom.” Inu Kimi paced her words carefully and was granted her impassive son’s acquiescence.

“The Shikon Miko vanished two suns past,” Sesshomaru replied, keeping his body still. “In a manner unfamiliar to this Sesshomaru.”

Inu Kimi left the low-hanging fruit of yet another human in her son’s life alone. The tale of Toga’s hanyou son had carried far and wide, and his human companions had each earned weight to their names as well.

The Shikon Miko, however, was a curiosity. Her legend had come to eclipse any other, with words of her kindness and generosity towards human and youkai alike. There were even rumors that she was raising a kitsune! It was responsible for Inu Kimi’s son to seek answers to such a disappearance. Indeed…

“Responsible of you, given how soon you will need to provide answers about such a disappearance,” Inu Kimi replied coyly.

Predictably, Sesshomaru narrowed gold eyes at her even further. He had no patience for slow games. “Hn.”

“So lacking in charm,” Inu Kimi sighed, not for the first time. Toga would have pretended to know for days. The Inu no Taisho had disliked the slowest of games, but of games, in general, he had been very fond.

Sesshomaru merely gazed at her. Inu Kimi huffed. “And rude,” she snipped. “Very well, tell me the circumstances of this disappearance. As a daughter of the Fang as well as the Sky, I will have any answers your cousins might.”

Sesshomaru considered her for a moment and sipped his tea. He raised his hand, and a servant opened the shoji screen, bowing. “Bring them in,” he told the servant.

Inu Kimi waited patiently.

At last, the shoji screen opened again, this time showing her the unpleasant face of her son’s kappa. It was a tradition of the Houses of the Moon and the Claw to rule over many spirits. Inu Kimi found it as ridiculous now as she had when Toga had first brought her to the Shiro of the West.

The kappa was followed by the little human girl, a little taller and better dressed. Inu Kimi knew that Sesshomaru had begun housing her in the Shiro of the West. Many of the youkai there had found the girl-child too delightful to dislike. She excelled at following inu mannerisms and must have been taking etiquette lessons at last for the little black-haired girl gave Inu Kimi a most gracious bow. “Honorable Lady-Mother.”

“Little Rin-hime,” Inu Kimi cooed. “How delightful.”

“Honorable Lady-Mother, Rin wishes to introduce you to Shippo-kun.” Rin bowed again, and behind her, a kitsune appeared. Inu Kimi slanted a look at her son: the kitsune’s scent had been missing, but now was quite evident. Her son disliked games but played them when convenient to his purpose.

“A kit,” Inu Kimi playfully tapped her fan against her chin, smiling at the human girl. “Why Little Rin-hime, what a delightful treat.”

The kit’s tail quivered, and his nose twitched, but he gave a respectful bow – not nearly as well-executed.

“Shippo-kun is not to eat, Honorable Lady-Mother,” Rin admonished in her delightful manner. “He is going to tell you how his mama disappeared.”

“Of course, of course,” Inu Kimi chuckled. So the rumors of the Shikon Miko having a kitsune child were true. “Well, little kitsune-kun, please tell me how your Honorable Mother disappeared.”

The kitsune gained a bit of bravery at Inu Kimi’s prodding. He was quite small, but Inu Kimi could see as he straightened that he had two tails already. Inu Kimi suspected Sesshomaru had provided the new kimono the kit wore, for appearances’ sake. It seemed her son was quite serious about the Shikon Miko’s disappearance.

“Mama and I were sleeping away from the village,” the kit said to the tatami. “I was sleeping on her stomach. Her power is always very warm,” he described, “but it got very, very warm, and I woke up from how warm it was. And then I dropped to the ground,” he said, and his lip was quivering very faintly. “And she just… wasn’t there anymore.”

Inu Kimi eyed Sesshomaru. 

“The scent filled the clearing and did not leave a trail or suggest movement,” her son informed her. “This Sesshomaru can think of no magic which can move a living creature in such a manner without some sign being left behind.”

“Perhaps,” Inu Kimi replied lightly. “Perhaps not a sign you found,” she smirked triumphantly as her son’s lip twitched down in warning.

“This Sesshomaru expects your knowledge to have purpose then,” he proposed cooly.

“Tch. Mind your manners,” Inu Kimi sniffed. “Your mother is a master of many arts, and indeed, can think of many magics that can yank poor things here and there without warning.”

“Without leaving a scent or marker.”

“That _is_ more tricky,” Inu Kimi fanned herself lazily.

“Please, Honorable Inu Kimi-sama,” the kitsune interjected, ducking his head at Sesshomaru’s low growl but jutting his chin in determination. “My mama. There is a portal that she used to use that Inuyasha can also use. He went through it, and she was not on the other side. She is missing. Please help me find her.”

Inu Kimi had already decided to reward the kit for disobeying her son, who had at least partially become the kit’s alpha. “Of course, little kitsune-kun. But you do not need to find your mama. That is the job of your alpha.”

She clapped her hands before the kit, or her son could disagree, and the shoji screen slid open. “Bring Lin-chan and prepare a room for my son.”

The shoji screen slid shut. Inu Kimi considered her son over a sip of tea, tapping her fan against the table. “Lin-chan will mind your pups, Sesshomaru; I shouldn’t want them in the libraries.”

“Hn.”

Standing gracefully, Inu Kimi snapped her fan closed. “Shall we?”

“Rin.”

“Yes, Sesshomaru-sama?”

“The kit and you will mind the inu for which mother has sent. When you grow tired, you will return to the room prepared for this Sesshomaru.”

“Yes, Sesshomaru-sama.”

“Jaken, you will stay with Rin.”

“Yes, Sesshomaru-sama.”

“So well behaved,” Inu Kimi purred as she stepped out into the hall, her son following her.

Her son, predictably, gave no response.

Inu-Kimi left her son in the claws of Og, her last living Uncle, and brother to Inu-Kimi’s mother. Og had cloistered himself in the libraries of the Fang after his mate died and was now the last true heir of the Fang and their great collections.

The thought made Inu Kimi’s lips thin. She turned down the long hallways that would take her towards the center of the Fang’s compound, nestled against the lowest gardens of the Palace of the Sky.

There, she found Hikaru, Lord of the Fang. 

“Honorable Inu Kimi Denka,” Lord Hikaru inclined his head at her gesture to remain seated. He had inherited the title from Inu Kimi’s mother after it became clear that Og would not be emerging from the libraries. He was a distant cousin and had married an inu from the House of the Claw. He had served the House of the Fang and, in turn, Inu Kimi and the West, with great competence.

“Send word to the Council,” Inu Kimi commanded him. “The Shikon Miko vanished two suns past. The most honorable Lord Sesshomaru of the West and the Inu seeks her and acknowledges the duties the Council wished him to accept.”

Her son had done no such thing, but would scarcely know the difference for some time.

“Yes, Denka,” Lord Hikaru bowed. As a part of the Council, he was familiar with the words she spoke. 

She left Lord Hikaru and headed back towards the garden she had been taking tea in before Sesshomaru had arrived. Back at her table, a fresh tray of tea things had been set out.

Inu Kimi set about making her tea methodically. She waited for the tea to cool and then gave herself several calming sips.

With careful hands, she drew the Meido Stone over her head and gazed at its cool, dark surface. She tapped it thrice with her foreclaw, and incanted the spell, pushing her youkai through the magic. She had not told her son she would check the one place he could not easily rule out. Foolishly, her pup had not considered it yet.

_Still wanting the answers before the questions are asked,_ the steady hum of her mate’s spirit chuckled.

Inu Kimi flared her nostrils. 

“Tell me,” she commanded the thin shine of light rising from the stone. A mere sliver of memory, the spirit of Inu no Taisho was stronger than most but still a soul that belonged to death. Either Inu Kimi directed it with commands or returned it to rest. “Does the Shikon no Miko walk that realm with you now?”

The sliver of light brightened with errant curiosity.

_Ubume-ue has not wandered here,_ came the curious reply. Inu Kimi drew her brows together, but the sliver had vanished, indicating that the short contract was complete.

Inu Kimi tapped her claws along the low table thoughtfully. She could try again, of course, but the small contract was draining. A dead spirit given a command did as it was commanded, even if it was Toga, Inu no Taisho. The answer would likely be the same, for whatever reason it had been given.

Ubume were yurei created at the death of mortal women who still desired to care for the children they had been forced to leave behind. Inu Kimi had seen many such yurei. They were lowly and easily appeased with care for their children. _Ubume-ue_ was something that Inu Kimi did not know, but that the dead did.

And, for whatever reason, Ubume-ue and the Shikon no Miko were the same, in the eyes of the dead.


	7. Kyūsekki, nai-banme

The moon was reaching its apex as Kagome shut the gate of the bone-fence. She took a moment to clap her hands, expelling a rush of reiki through the air. The last of the taint from the ogre fell away from the protection of the bone-fence.

Moving towards her lean-to, Kagome gave the area a careful eye. The fire was weak, but still going. Lizard trotted over to boulder next to the fire pit, laying down with a clear intent to stay down. Kagome left him alone, prodding the fire back to life and dropping another soaked log onto the embers when she was confident it wouldn’t cause more harm to the blaze than good.

The billowing cloud of the stench was irritating, but the bone-fence did not keep out insects unless they were particularly tainted. They were too small or too narrowly made. 

The armored fish appeared still secure. Kagome would have to stay up to deal with it, or the meat would sour. But first, she had to deal with her burden.

Kagome shook off her rain-slick and pursed her lips at the sensation of dry paste, dragging against the dried reeds. She would not be able to bathe until morning. Fortunately, time had made her less sensitive to the discomforts of such necessities. She set the slick out on the boulder, pausing a moment to pat Lizard’s head. Her biggest weave-and-hide basket, she retrieved from the lean-to and placed it on the slick, rocking it to make sure it was steady.

Mindful of the feeble movement within the sling, Kagome shrugged off her bow and took a moment to detach the string. Setting it off to the side, she moved the sling off her shoulder next, lifting carefully and setting it down in the basket.

Then she peeled back the leather flaps.

_Dogs_.

Kagome’s heart stopped. In the basket were five puppies, one with white fur, two with gold, and two with black. Not wolves, she knew wolves like she knew dogs. The she-wolf youkai had given birth to _dogs_. How was that possible? Kagome carefully cupped her hands around the white-furred pup. The floppy ears reminded her unerringly of Sesshomaru’s true form, although the fur was mere fuzz and the tail barely more than a nub.

They were unmistakably youkai, spirits of a low order. They felt like the mountain-voice and the grass-voice. Kagome did not find that surprising: most mammalian youkai felt of mountain, field, or tree.

The pup in her palms was calm. The crying had ceased during the rushed hike back to the bone-fence, but Kagome knew from experience that it wouldn’t last.

She made sure all five pups were secure in the basket and that the basket was stable on the boulder, grabbing an extra hide roll from the lean-to and tucking in the tiny bodies.

Stripping the armored fish took an hour, during which something roamed up against the bone-fence, agitating Lizard. Lizard was used to things sniffing around the bone-fence just like Kagome was, but he never got less anxious about it.

Kagome ignored the dark spirit and the soft whispering growl it made as it flushed against a bone, keeping her mind resolutely on her work. Kagome didn’t like using fish scale plates for armor. They were stiff and stank. But they made an excellent slab surface, and it was good to keep a spare on hand. She chose one and set the rest in a pile to return to the ocean. 

A thin, sharp claw from a long-dead beast was used next to cut strips of the thick meat off the carcass. The pieces, Kagome laid out on a grass matt until she had a large stack of them. Then she paused to set up the fire. The logs she rearranged into a single, level surface, muttering to herself at the sticky heat from the humidity and the fire. Then she set the long meat strips flat on the logs. The fish would taste wooden and burnt, but Kagome had found no better way to mass-cook meat over the years, short of building racks. Wood racks lasted two uses at most and weren’t worth the hassle. Bone racks lasted a few uses more, but Kagome often lacked long, thin bones with which to make them. Using leaves was best, but there was a shortage of broad-leaf plants the right size.

The rest of the meat was stripped, during which the meat on the fire finished one side. Light was beginning to creep into the Eastern sky, and Kagome yawned every few moments. She put the next set of strips on the logs and turned to the rest of the fish. Kagome had rescued young things many times over the years, just like she had rescued Lizard’s litter and now this litter of pups, and she preferred mammalian organs for feeding the young. But fish would do, for Kagome had no desire to hunt with the dark still lurking and so much left to do.

Kagome started pushing organs around the fish carcass, careful not to jostle the mess too much. She still wanted to take the remains in one piece and sled them back to the coast.

Out of the fish, Kagome harvested the heart, gills, and liver. She left the rest of the offal; taint was more common in the fish than the mammals she hunted, and she didn’t like to take risks with whatever the fish had been eating, either. The armored fish, large as it was, ate all manner of things, as she had discovered when going through stomachs when the fish first started appearing in her fishing spots. She took the eyes after some debate.

The gills, eyes, and liver, Kagome set down in her mixing plate. The curved shoulder socket of a long-dead predator was in danger of cracking, but Kagome hadn’t found a suitable replacement yet. Her clay pots were far too fragile for the heavy pounding organs needed to be of use.

The heart, Kagome set in Lizard’s clay bowl. Lizard raised his head from where it rested against the boulder but did not move. Kagome shrugged at him.

She flipped meat strips on the fire and wiped tears of sleepiness away from her eyes. Grinding the gills, liver, and eyes into a mess took until after the sun had risen high enough to slip through the trees. Most of the darkness banished, Kagome could see that her late-night visitor had left some scratches on her bone-fence as she walked around the perimeter to stay awake.

The mixture was disgusting but nutritious, and Kagome had raised plenty of motherless litters on similar liquified gut combinations. She moved over to where the pups had begun to mewl as the sun rose. She uncovered them and dipped her finger in the gut-goo. The finger, Kagome presented to the white pup. 

Kagome waited a moment. The pup was looking for a nipple to suckle, and although her finger was the right shape and size, it also smelled horrible. The pup whined louder, and Kagome gently pressed her finger into his mouth.

Instinct took over, and her finger was clean and covered in tiny pinpricks within seconds. She repeated the process, one pup at a time, re-dabbing her finger into the mixture several times over, until the pups quieted and fell asleep, one-by-one.

Finished, Kagome gave a great sigh.

Lizard looked up at her from where he was deep into the fish heart. 

The left-overs – of which there were a lot – would be okay for one more feeding, and then Kagome would need to find smaller animals from which to make her ‘milk.’ The rest of the fish’s bounty would have to go to waste.

Kagome minded the fire for a moment, pausing to stretch.

It was time to bathe, and then if she had enough energy, she needed to haul the fish waste onto the sled. It would be midday or later by the time she got back from the coast with the cleaned remains for keeping, and she was as hesitant to leave the pups as she was to take them with her.

Experience had taught Kagome that it was better to leave them.

Instead, she hummed a tune to herself as she cleaned the fire of fish and nudged the logs apart so that they would burn out on their own. She grabbed clean hides, the basket with the pups, and the sling, and whistled for Lizard to follow.

It was a short hike to the rushing stream that Kagome preferred to use for bathing. She relieved herself against a tree and spent a moment kneeling in the water, focusing on her reiki. Purifying her surroundings long enough to get tasks done had become an easy skill for Kagome as the number of spirits increased over the years, but it did hold up busy days. She washed, swatting at buzzing insects with reiki and hands and intermittent cursing. Her hair was curling in the humidity as the sun began heating the already warm air, and Kagome already itched with sweat by the time she finished.

She turned to the sling and removed it gingerly from the basket, tutting at the familiar sight of soiled bedding. She carefully picked up the pups one by one, lowering them into the water and rubbing their thinly furred hides soothingly as they cried plaintively.

Lizard, perhaps remembering himself, licked each one as Kagome set them down on a clean hide. When all five were clean, Kagome dealt with the sling and the basket. Lizard rolled in the water briefly, something that Kagome assumed he did either to mimic her or because he was hotter than she was, and gave a soft wuff of air to announce he was ready.

Back in the lean-to, Kagome wasted an hour making a nest against the wall. She had made plenty like it, designed to be easy to clean and difficult to escape. The pups continued to cry even after they were tucked against each other in the worn down and softest hide Kagome had, so she fetched the fish gut mixture and fed them again.

It would last three feedings, then, but Kagome would have to make an extra trip to clean the bowl the next day. Kagome silenced her complaining and waited for the pups to grow full enough to sleep.

To Lizard, waiting jealously at the entryway to the lean-to, she hummed and patted his head. “You can sleep with me until they get to be too big,” she informed him. Lizard, oblivious to what she said, seemed pleased.

The pups were ankle-biters by the time the air began to cool. So many moons had passed of hot humidity that the chill took Kagome by surprise. Several dozens of moons had passed since Kagome had rescued the pups, more time to grow than any of her other rescues had taken. Lizard had started to show the wear of extended parenthood. He would rest his heavy head on her lap and gaze up at her with his yellow eyes, as though asking her why she no longer loved him.

“Because all things deserve a mother,” Kagome had informed him, wishing strongly for her own with a surge of nostalgia, and patted his head. Her companion had grown more clever the past seasons, either due to maturing or simply having to mind five squirming pups. 

Keeping with Kagome’s long tradition of choosing absurd names, the white pup was named Ego. He was prideful and often thought of himself as the boss of all of them. Kagome suspected he might have been the firstborn, and training him had taken longer than the rest of his siblings. She had, perhaps, named him as well in memory of another arrogant white dog who had caused her grief.

The two golden pups and one of the brown ones were all females; Sun, Echo, and Parrot. The youngest, another male, was Mud, for his tendency to get as dirty as possible in the shortest possible time in the most unlikely circumstances. They all had gold-yellow eyes, except Parrot, who had pretty blue orbs and the most persistent yap Kagome had ever heard.

The chill was hard to ignore as it grew. The lean-to was built for the hot climate Kagome had endured, not the sharp winds and threat of snow. It was not made for rain, either, which had begun to fall with increasing vigor. The sea was closer than it had been, and the coast was unforgiving in the long winters. 

No, it was time to move again. Kagome did not relish the thought.

In the beginning, it had been easy. Lonely, perhaps, but Kagome had pulled sleds of building material away from splitting earth, lava flows, flooding plains, and encroaching coastlines as often as she had picked up her most valuable tools and walked away.

Spirits were much livelier now. The cycle of death and life was more widespread and vicious. The trees were older and warier of fire. The sky had come to mind the sting of lightening. Out of the fear of being hunted, the pain of death, darker spirits had grown in number. Nothing compared to the pain and suffering humans and war had brought, Kagome was certain. Nonetheless, when the moon was past its apex in the sky, she kept inside her bone-circle and rubbed away with care the scratches of the unhappy things that tried to get past its boundary.

Moving would mean plucking up the heavy bones and putting them on a cart with her tools, now too many to carry easily. She would have to build the cart. Kagome hadn’t bothered with a cart in a great many seasons. Even the most primitive wheels and axles were time-consuming and gave pitiable returns, and a sled for pulling carcasses to the coast and back was far less effort.

Nights would be fraught with troubles. The pups would be hard to move. Although several seasons, their stamina was true to their diminutive size.

Kagome started working on the cart. She had a rough idea of which direction she would take it. The land to the South had stabilized more recently, and some rugged rises had taken shape during her time in the gentle valley. It was tempting to take the cart up over the hills to where she had found the pups, but something in her thought that South was better.

The day before they would leave was mild, and Lizard caught small things running around at Kagome’s behest instead of hunting. Kagome had pulled up most of the bones that made her fence, laying them carefully in the cart’s narrow bed. Seven smaller bones she had set against the lean-to, running fibers around the structure and weaving through the bones several times. That night Kagome huddled inside her lean-to with the cart blocking the door. The pups curled around her, Lizard offering his stomach as a pillow.

Parrot complained of being hungry, and Ego did not appreciate the unusual happenings or pitiful dinner. Kagome fiddled with the fang tied around Mud’s throat with the thin leather collar. 

She had gone back, several days after finding the pups, to find the bones of the ogre and she-wolf picked clean. She had harvested the bones and taken several of the she-wolf’s fangs. Two she used as knives, and the last she had taken to wearing around her own throat.

Five of the smaller teeth she had purified, first in stream water and then in the ocean surf. She had tied one around each pup’s throat and had sealed a tiny font of her reiki in each fang. The protection spell had never been put to the test.

Lizard also did not seem eager to move. He had never known any home except the lean-to and the bone fence. He had pondered Kagome’s removal of the bone-fence with great anxiety, nudging her and pawing at the uprooted bones and stakes. 

Dawn came, and Kagome worked quickly to pack up the remaining bones and twine. “Up,” she told Ego, who looked at the cart’s narrow and already packed length dubiously. 

“Up,” Kagome repeated. She sparked her reiki, and Ego gave a pup-sized grumble. He jumped, nearly missing the edge. His siblings followed him dutifully save Sun, who Kagome patiently picked up and dropped against her brother. Sun was not a runt, but she was small and had difficulty with some of the feats her siblings had already conquered.

Kagome eyed the five pups sternly. “Stay,” she told them. Ego lowered his head and, after a moment, settled on his belly. His siblings, squished against him in the full cart, followed suit.

Kagome rounded the cart’s back and checked that her bow was within reach. She shrugged into the re-purposed harness, cast one look back at her abandoned lean-to, empty and hollow, and then took the first step forward.

The first Winter, after so much time, was not so bad. Kagome had lived through long Winters, and had learned how to stop wind and cold from threatening her health. 

To the South, having traveled several moons, Kagome had become more confident in their surroundings. It had been a long journey; the cart was meant for a short distance, and replacing parts had delayed them many times. She had found a foothill into the rocky terrain with an overhang that satisfied and had set up her bone-fence quickly around the hollow formed by stubborn tree roots that had separated the soil. Excavating the sunken floor with Lizard and the pups was much faster than it had been in the past. Kagome had reinforced the walls of the shallow dent in the hillside, before building out and finally, up. When complete, she was satisfied that the hillside would not be tempted to collapse on her head.

The hut, with sunken floor and walls made partially by the hillside, was one of the better Winter structures Kagome had built. She finished it with a flourish, a second wall towards the front, offset from the doorway to keep out more wind. The hut was bigger than any Kagome had ever built as well; five growing pups, Lizard, and fire would have to fit inside the space if it got too cold.

The final thing Kagome did was take her companions out into the forest and learn the landscape. The cart used up the last of its life transporting freshly-dug saplings from the still-warm forest floor, tired pups sleeping against the thin trunks they had exhausted themselves helping to dig up. 

Kagome planted the saplings in the open spaces around the bone-fence, a time-sensitive process that required Lizard to hunt out small things for food again. 

As Echo and Parrot snuffled around the edges of the bone-fence, Kagome placed her hands against the last of the tender saplings. It was the third she had repeated this process with, filling her hands with reiki and warming the traumatized core. “I’m sorry we upset you,” Kagome apologized to the young tree. She cut her shoulder and transferred dabs of her blood to the trunk. Rawness was all the tree felt, and Kagome tried to focus on chasing the feeling away, out through the baby roots. “Thank you for your hard work.”

The seasons grew distinct for a time, and Kagome focused on teaching the pups how to hunt. The skills taught to young creatures by their mothers were not something she emulated well. Lizard had been trained to guard and alert Kagome to danger, more than to follow the instinct of the hunt. His litter had been taught, and the siblings that had left had probably made it in the world. Kagome had never seen any evidence otherwise. She always felt a twinge of loss when she thought about the way they had inevitably grown antsy and left, one by one.

By the time the first true snow came, Lizard was two heads taller. He had not known the snow his entire life, and his thick hide lacked the fur to withstand the bite of true cold. He took to hiding in the hut next to the fire, venturing outside on only sunny days. 

The pups had also grown. There was still a pup-like disproportion to their limbs, but they were the size of large dogs. The she-wolf would have stood taller than Kagome by at least a foot, so Kagome thought the pups still had quite a ways to go. They roamed the forest as a pack and caught prey, dragging it back home between them proudly. The hostile spirits they must have encountered out of Kagome’s sight seemed not to challenge them, and they always dutifully trotted behind Kagome to wash in the small river that ran just over the next ridge.

The saplings grew with some trouble. The warm seasons were shorter and shorter, and Kagome had begun counting the older trees that died to increasingly low temperatures. She kept the saplings infused with reiki and began tending to the older trees beyond them in a similar manner. The trees would provide edible roots and an essential wind-break if they could survive.

Ego butted his head against the back of Kagome’s knee. Kagome patted his head and patted the trunk of the weakest sapling. “We’ll want them here,” she informed Ego. He rumbled and looked over at his siblings, who were wrestling over the bones of their latest kill. He had started crowding Kagome more as Lizard stayed by the fireside. 

Kagome sank into the dirt and pressed her reiki through her limbs.

A jolt of yoki startled her. At her side, Ego had laid down and was nuzzling the dirt at Kagome’s knee. He rested his jaw in the soil and raised his gold eyes to her. 

“Good boy,” Kagome smiled at him. She sparked her reiki against his paws and sent his yoki deep into the dirt. “We want the trees to grow.”

Parrot yipped and scurried over, her yoki sparking eagerly. She had none of Ego’s power but thrice his enthusiasm. Sun, Mud, and Echo followed, and soon Kagome was laughing as they each tried to focus their yoki to disastrous results. 

“Settle down,” she laughed as Echo bowled over Sun, and Parrot began yipping her distress. “Settle down,” she repeated, dragging Echo and Sun apart, putting them in line beside her. “Parrot,” Kagome directed. “Here,” she pointed to the spot next to Ego. Mud trotted to sit next to Parrot without being asked.

Kagome smiled at him wryly. The messiest pup often obeyed her easiest, although he never failed to get dirty first.

“Mud first,” Kagome declared, patting the cold damp in front of her. Normally, it would be Ego – Kagome did her best not to disrupt the pack dynamics which placed him first, but he had already received her attention.

Mud trotted over and plopped down without grace, sending wet dirt into Kagome’s leathers. She patted him with a sigh and settled him down. She tapped his paws and sent reiki shooting through them. Mud rolled over and showed his belly, promptly getting the last bit of clean fur dark with mud. Yoki lazily trundled into the Earth, and Kagome patiently guided it the rest of the way with her reiki.

Echo was next, trotting over and nudging Mud out of the way. Kagome picked up Mud, dropped him to the side, next to Ego, and directed Echo to nuzzle the dirt. Echo was much better about her yoki, although there was much less of it. 

“I should probably be teaching you guys this more seriously,” Kagome hummed as she moved onto Sun.

There was not much time to focus on how to use yoki or reiki correctly, though, for the air got chillier and chillier, and Kagome had to work harder and harder to maintain comfort. A supply of wood for fires that could never die, removal of ash, a desperate hunt for food. Food grew scarcer, even in the warmer months, and the warm months were not much warmer at all. Kagome had been through long Winters, several of them, and she had hoped extra companionship would make it easier.

In some ways, it did. In other ways… Kagome began to fret as game vanished. It was too cold to venture far, and her pups grew increasingly sulky as they went further and further in search of food without her. Sometimes they came back without anything to show for it. Sometimes night fell twice before they nuzzled her in greeting once more.

Lizard passed in the early days of the true cold. Weak from malnutrition and unable to protect himself from the cold, his yoki sputtered and fought and, at last, gave out. 

Kagome held his head for a long time in her lap, quietly crying. Her pups huddled around her, all of them miserable even though the hut was much warmer than outside. 

“I could have saved him,” Kagome admitted to Ego quietly as she stroked the tough hide of Lizard’s head, his yellow eyes closed forever. He was the first companion that had ever died from unnatural causes and her neglect, not old age. She had not infused him with her reiki. Although he had probably had many long years yet to live, it would have been a constant battle for him. The long Winter was scarcely begun, and things without fur would not be natural remainders.

She bent until her forehead pressed against Lizard’s cold skull and cried until there were no tears left. The pang of loneliness that Kagome had shoved into a corner repeatedly stabbed at her ribs, sharp and unsympathetic.

It was snowing, when Kagome began to dig the grave. The snow made everything wet and digging deep would have been impossible without Mud and Echo trading spots to throw dirt out behind them to mimic her actions. When Kagome went to hoist Lizard’s body up, Ego shuffled under the dead weight without being asked, until it was under his back and shoulders. He stood with some difficulty and looked up at Kagome proudly. 

They buried Lizard as snowdrifts built up around the hut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do not feed anyone or anything ground-up organ mixtures. No dogs were harmed in the writing of this story.


End file.
